Finding my north star, figuring out what color my parachute is, discovering my Italy, following my bliss, being the best me I can be…..and enjoying the journey

The Sandcastle

Often in our lives, we stumble upon things of great beauty. Unexpected, the joy in seeing them becomes so much greater. Take a photo. Show it to friends. Know that they will never feel the gasp that you felt when you fell into its path. Take that moment of wonder and share it nonetheless so that others may see your world as you see fit.

I came across this sandcastle a couple of years ago while at the beach. The time of year I can’t remember though I know that it was a quiet one because I remember stepping out onto the sand, seeing this, and looking around for its creator, or even someone else to enjoy it with. The structure itself is elementary, something that any small child with a bucket and shovel could have constructed. There is a wall that aims to protect the main building in a fruitless effort against the waves. There is a moat filled with coarse shells. There is a door and a walkway leading to it.

The castle is decorated with the discarded homes of bivalves—oysters and clams. Washed up by the waves, they’ve found a new purpose here, providing beauty to a square of sand before eventually rejoining the ocean with the next wave, a constant recycling and reliving. But here’s where it gets interesting. One can’t find daisies on the beach. Yet, there they are, lining the fortressed walls of the castle and also the walkway. And sitting atop the structure is an arrangement of flowers that speaks to corsages on prom dresses…or perhaps a decoration on a tombstone.

Suddenly, my visions of laughing children with diapers sticking out of the bottom of their swimsuits, of parents gazing from underneath the shade of a beach umbrella; those all disappear. It was no child to put up this castle and adorn it with daisies. No, the person who built this castle was building it for someone. They would not tire of its construction halfway through, dousing it with a bucketful of water. They were serious when they built those fortressed walls and told the ocean to leave it be for just a while longer.

At least that’s what I thought when my breath caught in my throat as I stumbled across this castle. I raised the camera to my eye, hoping to capture the essence of second chances in life, of walls built and relied upon, of paying tribute to those that we have loved greatly. And here now, years after taking the picture, I find the photo again and stare at it for long moments and everything comes back to me, my life now containing things that the girl with the camera never could have foretold.